Slytherin's Seven Deadly Sins
by rainbowspring
Summary: In which Astoria Greengrass serves as a correlation between the sins of seven of her Housemates, all the while without even saying a word.
1. Envy

**Disclaimer :I do not own** **Harry Potter.**

Envy

Small hands as white as lilies Sign the next move.

"Queen to H3," Daphne intones for her sister. Astoria claps her hands as her queen moves to the next square and clinks Daphne's knight away. Their cat Buttons-who is seated in Astoria's lap- meows in response, like he is encouraging Astoria's win. She strokes his fur.

"Don't think you'll win, just because of that," Daphne warns, although as her emerald eyes stare into her sister's blue, and Astoria's ruby lips curve ever so slightly, they both know that is a lie. Astoria _always_ wins; it happens every time.

In fact, if anyone asked Daphne, she would argue that Astoria had won from the moment she was _born_. She won the moment she came out of her mother's womb with skin as fair as untouched snow and gentle golden waves of hair, and actually _looked_ like her mother. She will never be the target of accusatory glares and whispers that follow her wherever she goes. She will never have to endure the awkwardness of explaining why her hair is black and kinky instead of blonde and straight, nor will she ever have to insist that the natural brown of her skin is purely from the sun.

Still, there is no doubt that Daphne Greengrass is her father's daughter. She has the classic "Greengrass Green" eyes-unlike Astoria, who has her mother's blue- , his cheekbones, the same pert nose, and she even makes the same jaunty movements just like he does when he walks. She is obedient to both her father and his wife's every whim and addresses her as her mother just like Astoria does, yet it is her sister who is the favorite. Her sister whom her parents have doted on from the moment she was born, and receives more than twice the attention that Daphne does. Still, it's not all her fault, Daphne admits. After all, she can't help being born mute _and_ deaf.

The moment her parents discovered that their little girl could not hear a word they were saying, thousands of Galleons were spent on Healers without hesitation. However, their efforts were in vain. Eventually, they had no alternative but to accept that their daughter would never be able to hear and may never vocalize more than simple sweet giggles. And so it was that the entire family learned how to Sign, and their daughter learned to read lips and communicate through writing and her body language.

Their deaf, mute, and _legitimate_ daughter, Daphne reminds herself. Yet on some level, can she really blame them? Astoria is the girl whose smiles and embraces make the sun shine and put the stars in the sky, she thinks, as Astoria gently nuzzles Button's face and rubs his fluffy white belly. _She has a heart of gold to match that hair of hers_. Daphne smiles wryly. She would be lying if she were to say she hated her sister. She feels quite the opposite, actually. _I dote on her as much as everyone else does._

A sudden tap on the table interrupts her train of thought. _It is your turn now,_ Astoria Signs.

Daphne nods and moves her king without thinking. _I have literally just given her the perfect opportunity to checkmate,_ she realizes.

Astoria Signs her next move.

" _Are you sure?"_ Daphne signs back, certain she could not possibly have understood. Astoria nods.

"King to E7. "Daphne says, and the piece obeys.

Daphne gazes at the scenario happening below before she makes her next move. "Checkmate."

 **A/N: A couple of things in case anyone's confused: Astoria and Daphne are playing Wizard's Chess, which is why Daphne has to speak for Astoria, since in wizard's chess you have to give the pieces commands vocally. Secondly, yes I read the article about disabilities in the wizarding world on Pottermore. I have mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, I think it's great that people suffering from illnesses and disabilities can have them be instantly cured if they wish. On the other hand, it does kind of-in my opinion- stifles some creativity for possible fanfics and headcanons, and I know some people with disabilities have commented that the way it was worded (unintentionally) sends the unfortunate implication that you can't grow up in the wizarding world with a disability, and moreover, it's just not good representation for people who have disabilities. I decided that as much as I love JKR, for the purpose of this fanfiction I will just ignore the article on Pottermore.** **Also, Draco and co will appear later on, I just couldn't find a way to weave them into this chapter.**

 _ **Please Review!**_


	2. Avarice

Avarice

"Where _are_ my barrettes?" Pansy shrills as she tears their dorm room apart in search of her missing hair decorations. "We are going home for Christmas break the day after tomorrow and I _still_ haven't found them!"

"Sorry Pansy," the other girls in the room reply as they pack. Millicent Bulstrode smirks behind the magazine that she is pretending to read. She had already packed the day before, and she knows full well where Pansy's missing barrettes are. _In the bottom compartment of my trunk, naturally._

Millicent knows what will happen; it is so routine. She will take the hair ornaments home with her, wear them only when she is certain that the Parkinsons will not show up for tea, get tired of them after a few weeks, and add them to her shrine of outgrown, stolen treasures. It's what she's done since childhood.

Her family is not poor by any means, but certainly nowhere near as wealthy as the families of many of her housemates, a fact which had not escaped Millicent's notice even at the age of five years old, when she noticed that her playmates always seemed to have more and nicer clothes and toys than her. She remembers one day Draco Malfoy had been bragging about a new toy broomstick his parents had bought him, and asked her why she didn't have one too? To this day, she still remembers how red her face flushed, and the smirk that adorned his features as he told her she looked like a tomato. When he left to go to the bathroom, she grabbed the toy broomstick he had left lying on the ground, ran into the sunroom, hid it under the sofa, and ran back outside with another plate of biscuits, asking him-for he had returned at this point- what was wrong, and saying she had just gone back into the kitchen for another snack, couldn't he tell from her plate? She smirks as she remembers, still unable to believe she had gotten away with it.

No one had ever taught her theft was wrong. Her family had been in league with the Death Eaters, after all, when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was alive, rejoined when he had returned last year, and they did far more than steal through it all. After her first time, it became something of a habit whenever her family had company over, and that habit transcended to her school life once she started Hogwarts. Once she started, she's never been able to stop. She always wants more and more and _more_.

She only steals from her roommates right before school breaks though; this way, she can take their belongings home, use them until she becomes bored-as she inevitably does- and never get caught. She'll tell her parents she bought those barrettes in Hogsmeade, not that they'll care. She doesn't just steal _solely_ for the sake of thievery though.

Millicent is aware she is no beauty. She's not "feminine" enough and she's "too bulky." Her jaw is "too protruding" and her nose is "obtrusive." Yet, she hopes to be rich. One day, she will be richer than ickle Draco and his stupid toy broom, and wealthier than Pansy Parkinson and her precious barrettes. She is not naïve to the superficiality of teenage boys; they seldom display interest in girls who look like her, which rules out marrying into money. She is an average student at best, and not willing to exert the extra effort it would require for her to actually potentially earn a lot of money one day. So how will she become rich? The answer is both simple and complicated; she will continue to commit larceny. She's had this plan for years. When she grows up, she will sell every object she has ever thieved for more than they are worth. At the moment, the shrine she has hidden in her closet back home- her inventory, as she likes to call it- is filled with hundreds-no- _thousands_ of items she has "collected" over the years, some more priceless than others. That charm bracelet she nicked from Tracey Davis has to be worth a hundred galleons _at least,_ and she can certainly sell it for more than that….

"Millicent, _help me_!" Pansy demands.

Millicent stands up and sighs, folding her magazine (which incidentally she purloined from their last Hogsmeade trip when the store's cashier wasn't looking). "Is there any place you haven't already looked in this room?"

"No," Pansy pouts.

"Why don't you go check the bathroom, "Millicent suggests. "While I go check the halls to see if maybe they fell or you dropped them there or something."

"Fine," Pansy flounces into the bathroom as Millicent exits the room, bringing her magazine with her. Once outside, she immediately leaves the girls' dormitory and heads to the Common Room, where maybe she will find some peace and quiet.

She finds third-year Astoria Greengrass sitting beside Malfoy on one of the couches by the fire. He is talking to her about who knows what, while she holds parchment and a quill in her hands for her to ask questions and answer him with. _He's probably just talking her to see if he can get in her pants._

Millicent's eyes fall on Astoria's quill. It's one of those new, just on the market quills that do not require an inkpot. You fill it with ink once, and it can supposedly last for months before it needs to be refilled. She also notices that Malfoy has a solid gold watch on his wrist.

"Astoria," Millicent says as she slides into the seat next to Malfoy. "Could I borrow that quill for an essay I have to give Snape by tomorrow? "

"Can't you see she's using it?" Malfoy drawls. "Don't you have any of your own?"

"I do, but I packed them all into my trunk when I was packing and I'd have to dig everything out just to find them." The lie flows off of her tongue as smoothly as melted chocolate.

Astoria scribbles something onto her parchment before holding it up. It reads: _Sure, I've got loads more in my bag anyway that I can use. Just give it back to me when you're done._

"Thanks," Millicent smiles as she leans over Draco to grab the quill, making sure her wrist brushes against his in the process.

Astoria pulls another quill out of her pocketbook as Millicent stands. Millicent is about to turn away, when Malfoy calls out, "You will give that back to her though, won't you _Millicent_?"

She almost laughs. Draco Malfoy, acting morally righteous? She forces herself to feign an expression of slight indignation though. "Of course."

It is not until she passes the threshold of the girls' dormitories that she allows herself a smirk as she glances down at her prizes: The gold watch and the quill. _Two for one; not bad._ She remembers what Greengrass Junior had written. _Just give it back to me when you're done._ Ha. Fat chance of that happening.

For a moment, she almost feels…guilt? Almost. True, she did just steal a tool a deaf and mute girl uses to communicate with the world around her. There's no denying that _. But it's her own fault for being so damn trusting,_ Millicent reasons. _Honestly, maybe this will teach her to not be so naïve in the future. She can't afford to be so gullible, not in the world we live in._ _Besides, she can't be_ that _innocent if Malfoy's into her. Then again, maybe she is. Maybe Malfoy's finally grown tired of Pansy and wants some cute, inexperienced girl to corrupt._

 _You just stole from a disabled kid,_ another part of her argues. _That's low, even for you, especially when she needs what you stole from her to communicate with other people._

But would it not be discriminatory of her to have _not_ thieved her because of her disabilities? Besides, she said she had more, and she did consent to giving that one away.

 _I didn't do anything wrong at all,_ Millicent thinks as she stuffs the watch and the quill down her shirtfront, before she opens the door to her dorm room. _Nothing at all._

 **A/N: Please note, this is all from Millicent's perspective, and does not reflect any of my actual opinions, nor do I condone any of her behavior.**

 **Now that I've gotten that out of the way,** _ **Please Review!~**_

 **Thanks so much to** **t** _ **hunderthunder**_ **and** _ **Meg-Helix**_ **for adding Slytherin's Seven Deadly Sins to story alerts! Thanks so much to** _ **sarafine**_ _ **-ecleips**_ **for adding** **Slytherin's Seven Deadly Sins to Favorites!**

 **Next Chapter: Lust, starring Draco Malfoy.**


	3. Lust

Lust

 **A/n: Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed, added to favorites, or story alerts! Also, in case it wasn't clear, in the first chapter Astoria was** _ **intentionally**_ **letting Daphne win. Now, onto the next sin!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** **Harry Potter.**

 _Just a little further…_ Grey eyes trace every single curve of the enticing sight before him. Then, Astoria straightens up and hands the first year the book that they had dropped, and walks away. Internally, Draco sighs. _It was nice while it lasted._ He turns the corner and heads to The Room of Requirement. He has a job to do, and now he must focus. _I can't let her distract me._

Whenever he is not terrified for his family, whenever he is not fixated on the task he has to do, and whenever he is not _crying_ to Moaning Myrtle about his problems, _she_ is all that he thinks about. Astoria Greengrass.

It all started two years ago, the night of that blasted Yule Ball. He had met her before then, but had never thought of her as more than the pretty, disabled sister of Daphne Greengrass with the sweet smiles. That all changed when she entered the entrance hall, arm in arm with Theodore Nott, looking like Aphrodite herself. Greengrass Junior was growing up, and this fact hit him like a ton of bricks. He still remembers exactly how she looked that night. She wore a pale purple set of dress robes that hugged her newly developing figure like a second skin, and at certain angles, the light-so pale was her dress- Draco could swear he could make out the outline of the lace slip she wore underneath. Not to mention that her dress had a sweetheart neckline and the hem-although far from scandalous- treated him to the sight of a little more leg than what the school's uniform ordinarily permitted. Her golden hair was shinier than usual, and the silver-diamond choker she wore only served to accent the-he cringes at the clichéd idiom- swanlike elegance of her neck. Honestly, he paid more attention to her than to his actual date that night. Even though he never spoke a word to her once all evening, she was on his mind as he spun his date on the dancefloor, and after he retired to bed. He wanted to believe that it would only be that one night. Morning would come and everything would revert back to normal. She would simply become Greengrass Junior once more, and she would blend into the halls and common room like the linoleum rose floor of his mother's bathroom back home: Always present and occasionally acknowledged for its prettiness, but otherwise unnoticeable.

Much to his dismay, the opposite happened. He would notice the subtle sway of her hips whenever she passed him by. He would muster all of his willpower to avert his eyes from her developing chest-or up her robes- as she stretched and stood on her tiptoes to reach that book on the top shelf in the library, or adjust the lighting in the common room by leaning up and casting a non-verbal _Lumos_ on the lamps. He always marvels at that actually; that she's been using non-verbal magic since she was a child. It makes sense; after all, she can't _say_ the incantations. Yet he only learned how to do that this year.

But back to his lechery. His desire only grew worse as she grew older, and all that entailed for a girl her age. _And here I am now,_ he thinks, as he enters the room. _Unable to concentrate on what I need to do to save the lives of my family because Greengrass Junior's too attractive for her own good, and I can't control my pubescent hormones enough to concentrate._

He didn't have his first real conversation with her until he was in his fifth year, and she was in her third. It had been the second week of school, and she was sitting by herself reading a book in the common room. She was always reading books, he noticed. Not just for schoolwork, but for pleasure as well it seemed. Crabbe and Goyle were snoring on the couch, and Pansy and the rest of his ''cronies" had gone to bed. He could just wake his minions up again to listen to him talk, but he was finding himself bored with their company. He strolled over to where she sat. "What book are you reading?"

She looked up, and he was suddenly aware of how big and bright her blue eyes were. She held it up _:_ Alchemy, Ancient Art and Science by Argo Pyrites.

"Alchemy?" He raised an eyebrow as she nodded. "Are you interested in that?"

She wrote something onto her parchment and nodded vigorously. She showed him what she wrote: _Yes, it is a career path that I am very much interested in._

He had to stop himself from blinking. _So the kid knows what she wants to do already. Not bad._

"My grandfather-Abraxas Malfoy- had an interest in Alchemy too. He…"

They would have more and more conversations from then as the year progressed, Draco reminiscences. He would learn that Alchemy has fascinated her since before she started Hogwarts, and that the book she had in the common room that night was the last gift her great grandmother ever gave to her. He would learn that she adores reading poetry, even though she can't write a word of it.

 _Focus,_ he reminds himself firmly. He approaches the Vanishing Cabinet. He can't afford to think about that innocent, child-like noise she makes in the back of her throat when she laughs, how she shows just a hint of her pearly teeth when she smiles, nor how she's the only one who truly seems to give a dam about him.

No matter how much he avoids her, she always seems to find him somehow. Whenever they are together, she always manages to distract him from whatever is bothering him. Probably because she has no idea, he ruminates. Although, if that were the truth, why is it that when he has returned to the common room past midnight some nights he has found her there, and she just _happens_ to have an extra cup of hot chocolate, and would he like some? Not to mention that it's always just the way he likes it since that one time he mentioned to her his preference in passing. Unlike Snape or any of the other fools claiming to help him, there are never any ulterior motives in any of her gestures.

 _She feels_ sorry _for me._ At this, he lets out a hollow laugh, so unlike his ordinary mocking snigger. _Of course_ she _would feel sympathy for me of all people. Of course such a kind, trusting girl like her would feel pity for the lascivious, besotted demon that can't have her._

He shakes his head suddenly. Besotted? _No_ , he mentally berates himself. _I am not in love with Astoria Greengrass._

But _if_ –and only if he is- it would explain why he hasn't even _desired_ to snog Pansy in months, and how when the last several times he had he imagined that the girl he was kissing was a certain blue-eyed, golden-haired ingénue instead of the spiteful brunette with eyes like coal. It would explain her ability to make him smile genuinely, why he remembers her birthday - November 7th-, why he listens to her, why he bloody _cares_ about her.

"This is just priceless," He speaks aloud. "Staring at Astoria Greengrass' arse as she bends over to pick up some first year's book is how I realize that I'm in love with her."

 _No, I_ can't _be in love with her._ His insides quake and tremble like an earthquake all of a sudden. His body suddenly feels as cold as ice, and his mind spins like an out of control record. _A girl like her is not meant for the likes of me. A girl like her should marry an amiable man who will take care of her. Someone who will protect and provide for her, even if he won't fully appreciate her like I do. But that's beside the point. Marriage isn't supposed to be based off of love anyway._

 _No,_ he decides. _I do not love her. I desire her is all. I only want her body, and these…interactions are only sub-conscious attempts to get closer to her- to it. To it. It's just sex._

His last thought before falling asleep that night is an acknowledgement that his feelings are purely carnal in nature. Or so he tells himself.

 **A/n: Next chapter should be up in about a week or so. Until then, please review! Reviews motivate me to write faster!;D**


	4. Gluttony

**A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed, followed, or added to favorites so much! *Hands out cybercake*.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** **Harry Potter.**

Gluttony

G _rhhnyum grhnuym nyum._ Teeth gnash together almost in perfect harmony.

 _Smack, gobble smack._ "Honestly Crabbe, don't you _ever_ stop eating?" Pansy says, wrinkling her pug-like nose in distaste.

G _rhhnyum grhnuym nyum._ He shovels more food into his mouth like a dehydrated man in the desert who just stumbled upon a hidden lake.

"Must he always chew so loudly, and with his mouth open?" Daphne whispers to Pansy, who nods in agreement.

 _Smack, gobble smack._ " _Eugh_ , _Crabbe,_ bits of your food mixed in with your _spit_ are flying _everywhere_!" Pansy shrills.

G _rhhnyum grhnuym nyum._ "For God's sakes Crabbe, don't be such a pig," Pansy snaps. "You're going to choke at this rate!"

 _Smack, gobble smack._ " _Draco,_ make him stop!" Pansy whines.

"I would if I could Pansy," Draco shakes his head. "I would if I could."

G _rhhnyum grhnuym nyum._ "I think I'm going to go insane if I have to eat one more meal with him," Pansy mumbles, burying her head in her hands. Daphne strokes her hair in response.

 _Smack, gobble smack gobble smack, smack._ It's at that moment, that a tight, constrictive feeling comes over his throat. Suddenly, it becomes much more difficult to breathe. He starts turning purple in the face when-

Instantly, his airway has cleared. He looks up as 5th year Astoria Greengrass lowers her wand from two seats across from him now that he can breathe again.

"Thanks for that non-verbal _Anapneo_ Astoria," Draco says almost blithely. (Only almost, since he's never blithe these days.) "I cannot express how much I would have hated to have been forced to give him mouth-to mouth resuscitation."

The table sniggers as Crabbe flushes, all except for Pansy, who merely scowls. Daphne pats her arm gently. It is then that he gets an idea.

"You know Greengrass,"he leers at Astoria, his eyes trailing down past her face and coming to a stop at her breasts. "There are a lot of ways I can make that up to you-"

" _Shut up Crabbe!"_ Daphne and Draco yell simultaneously, evidently understanding his innuendo. There is a pause as all eyes are suddenly on Malfoy. Even Daphne stares at him. Pansy clenches the fork in her hands as her dark eyes bare into Malfoy's grey.

Is he imagining it, or is Draco's ordinarily ashen face slightly less pale than usual?

"She's only a fifth-year Crabbe," Draco says finally. "And I'm trying to eat breakfast here, if you don't mind. I _don't_ need to witness your pathetic attempts to flirt with girls while I'm eating. It's as vile as it is pitiful too watch." There is a murmur of assent at this. Pansy unclenches her fork and drops her gaze.

"Moreover," Daphne interjects with a smile that does not reach her eyes. "If any of you ever dare touch my sister, I will kill you."

Before anyone can respond to this, the doors to the Great Hall slam open and Professor- or rather, Headmaster- Snape stands up. A hush almost instantly falls over the chattering students as Argus Filch runs up to the staff table.

"They've escaped!" He wheezes. "The little worms have escaped!"

"Speak plainly Filch," Snape sneers.

"The students chained up in my office! They're gone!" The hall is so quiet that you could hear _half_ of a pin drop.

Snape stands up, and his face is as white as chalk as he growls," _Find them, you fool!"_ Filch runs out of the hall as Snape addresses the rest of the room. "If any student or faculty member finds any of these missing students, and fails to report it, the consequences will be of the utmost severity."

Once upon a time, a portion of the hall may have scoffed at these words. Now, even Malfoy is paralyzed at the thought of the unnamed consequences. Daphne Greengrass sits frozen in her seat for the next several minutes, and Pansy has to squeeze her hand under the table to soothe the goosebumps that have erupted all over her skin. Crabbe just munches on.

Later that evening, Crabbe returns to the Common Room after sneaking out to grab a bite to eat from the kitchen. He is not worried about what will happen if he is caught; after all, he is a Death Eater, nothing bad will happen to _him_. He can bend and break as many (school) rules as he likes, as long as he does not express any pro-Muggle sentiments. He is a Slytherin; there's a reason they're the only House in the school that can still have a laugh occasionally.

He enters the Common Room around midnight, and it is deserted except for Astoria and Malfoy, who is talking to Astoria, and does not seem to have realized that Crabbe has just entered.

"…I know it's you, there's no point in trying to deny it Sweetheart. What the Hell are you thinking?! Do you have any idea what would happen to you if they found out? My God Astoria, if something were to happen to you, how could I-"

At that moment, Astoria leans in and silences him with a kiss.

Crabbe makes a noise of disgust at the scene before, him, and walks upstairs, munching all the way. Why should he care about the has- been that Malfoy has become when he has food to devour?

If he hadn't been so preoccupied with indulging himself, perhaps he may have noticed how Astoria's eyes had widened as soon as they fell on Crabbe midway through Draco's rant before she kissed him. Perhaps he may have actually considered the meaning of whatever Draco could have possibly been saying. Perhaps he would have realized just who was responsible for the freed student-prisoners. But where would be the fun in that?

 **A/N:** **The next chapter will be up sometime in the middle of November, of that I am certain.**

 **Until then, please review!**


	5. Sloth

**A/N: Thank you so much, everyone who has reviewed, added to favorites, or story alerts! *Hands out cyber goodies*.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

Sloth

If he were wittier, if he were more observant, and if circumstances were different, perhaps he would appreciate the irony that it's a beautiful day the day of the memorial service he is at. It is a warm early July afternoon, and the sky is robin's egg blue. The sun shines brightly overhead, and the sky is clear asides from a few stray fluffy white cumulus clouds. He is sweltering beneath his black school robes. _Why did Mrs. Crabbe feel the need to hold her son's memorial service outside?_

They are all wearing their school robes, Crabbe's friends that is. It was something they had agreed on regarding the circumstances of Crabbe's death. Goyle stifles a hollow laugh in the back of his throat. _His friends, ha. Asides from me, everyone is here for the sole sake of appearance; no more no less._

His eyes move to his left, immediately past Astoria Greengrass. Malfoy sits still, his head hung. _Malfoy might be here out of guilt._ The wizard on the podium in the front continues to speak. Goyle doesn't even register what he is saying; it doesn't matter now, and it never will.

 _They never knew him,_ he thinks. _Not like I did._

They had met on the Hogwarts Express, the first day of school all the way back in first year, which seems a lifetime away now.

" _Is this compartment occupied? " A bored drawl inquired. Crabbe had been looking out the window in the empty compartment when the voice spoke. He turned to see a young blond boy and his thuggish looking friend. Before he could answer, the blonde continued," Good. I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."_

" _Gregory Goyle." Goyle introduced himself, and Malfoy shook his hand. Of course he knew his surname; imagine the praise his ordinarily austere parents would heap if he befriended a Malfoy…._

" _I'm Crabbe," the other boy said. They too shook hands._

He didn't know he had just met his best friend that day. Yet, years passed and the two became practically inseparable. They were two sides of the same coin, in a way. Their parents expected more than either of them could give, so somewhere along the way they just stopped trying. They didn't have the luxury of thinking for themselves, so they let others think for them. Everyone else thought them intellectually inferior, but together they were equals.

" _You're not dumb you know," Crabbe remarked to him once, in the privacy of their dormitory when everyone else was out. "I've seen what you can do when you put your mind to it. You can actually, you know, do spells and stuff."_

" _Try telling that to my parents," Goyle chuckled hollowly. He lit another cigar with his wand. "Want one?"_

 _Crabbe nodded and took it from him, before taking a drag a minute later. "You never do any work, but you still pass every year. You could be smart if you wanted."_

" _And what good would that get me? I tried that as a kid, but it was never good enough. It-anything I did, chess, flying, social stuff, you name it- was always good, but not as good as Damian, and therefore unacceptable by default. "_

" _Damian?"_

" _My brother," Goyle replied. "He died when I was ten. He was eighteen. My parents would always tell me I was going more slowly than he did at my age. They always criticized my mistakes, and never complimented me even once. This one time Damian and I were playing Quidditch, and I actually beat him. I ran inside the house to tell Mum and Dad, but they just yelled because I got dirt on my robes, and said Damian must have just let me win, because there's no way I was smart enough to win at anything on my own. Nothing changed after he died, so I just gave up."_

" _My parents are the same way," Crabbe commented. "Except I've never been smart. So I just stick with people who are, so I don't have to be."_

Goyle glances around again. Malfoy is trembling slightly, and Astoria softly squeezes his hand. Daphne and Pansy are seated directly to Astoria's left, and Daphne's green eyes are narrowed. Pansy strokes her hand in response, but her dark eyes are slits as well, albeit for a different reason.

"…in peace," the wizard up front is saying now. "Amen."

"Amen." They chorus, thus ending the service.

The reception is held inside the house. It is the most torturous social experience he has ever endured, and that's saying something. Mrs. Crabbe cannot stop crying, and Goyle doesn't have it in himself to find it anything less than pitiful.

 _I need a smoke._

He steps outside, takes a drag, and takes a walk. He walks all the way to the cemetery where Crabbe's body is buried. The gates to the graveyard are in desperate need of oiling he notes as they creak and moan painfully, like the chains of Slytherin's ghost.

He walks up the hill he knows that leads to Crabbe's grave. Was it really only ten years ago that they used to play in this graveyard? (They stopped playing when Damian was buried here.)

He is about two thirds of the way there, when two blonde heads catch his eye. Malfoy and Astoria are standing in front of Crabbe's grave, and Malfoy's shoulders are heaving, his head buried in her shoulder while she holds him.

For the second time that day-and perhaps for the second time in his life- Gregory Goyle feels pity for someone other than himself. Maybe he can go up to them, comfort him, and they can all mourn together. Maybe for once in his life he can do something meaningful. Then he remembers.

" _My son, my best son!" His ordinarily composed mother breaks down as her eldest son is buried into the ground. Sobs wrack her body all over. Ten year old Goyle tentatively puts his arm around her. She throws it off of her and glares at him, tears streaming down her face out of her hard eyes._

" _Don't you dare pity me!" She snarls. "You can never know what I am going through. I have lost what matters most to me in this life, and nothing- no one- can replace him, not even you. You're too young, too lazy, too-"the rest of her words are drowned out by her sobs as she is consumed with tears._

He pauses. He could walk the rest of the way and try to console them, but what good would that do? Besides, it's a long way up and he's tired beneath his black robes and the sweltering sun.

 _It wouldn't have been worth it,_ he tells himself later. _I was too lazy and too tired to go all the way up._ Or so he tells himself.

 **A/N: Please review!**

 **Next time: Pride, featuring Blaise Zabini .**

 **Just a little side note, you may wish to reread chapter 1 before you read Chapter 6. It might come in handy;D**

 **Happy Thanksgiving!**


	6. Pride

**A/N: Thank you so much, everyone who has reviewed, added to favorites, or story alerts! *Hands out cyber goodies*.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** **Harry Potter.**

Pride

Nineteen year old Blaise Zabini pushes open the door to Flourish and Blotts, eager-an adjective which is seldom used to describe him- to escape from the torrential downpour outside. He utters a quick _exaresco,_ and his robes dry instantaneously.

 _I might as well wait for the rain to let up, or perhaps the shopkeeper will let me borrow some Floo Powder and let me use a fireplace, assuming there is one here. This is all that Apparition Instructor's fault, if he had just passed me instead of faulting me for one missing ligament..._ (He conveniently neglects to remember that despite the fact that the Apparition test is retake-able, yet he has never once bothered to retake it.)

He strolls down the store, before he becomes as motionless as those Petrified Mudbloods back in second year. There is no mistaking that kinky hair, nor that light brown skin, nor is there any mistaking those emerald eyes that meet his gaze now.

"Hello Blaise," Daphne Greengrass greets him from behind the desk and cashier in front of her.

"Hello," He nods stiffly.

"Long time no see," she smiles. "How've you been?"

"Fine," he forces himself to shrug. "I haven't seen you since Crabbe's memorial service."

"I've been busy," Daphne says. "I took a review session that summer before taking my N.E. . Afterwards, Pansy and I traveled throughout Europe for about a year, although I did come home for holidays a few times. I decided I had enough traveling, so I went out and got myself a job. I work here now, as you can see. What about you?"

"I've been in Italy for the past year," he replies. "I only returned last Christmas."

"Pansy and I were in Italy for a few weeks," Daphne remarks. "I'm surprised we didn't run into you."

"I suppose," he doesn't look at her.

"Would you like to grab a drink?" Daphne offers. "I get off at 5; we could meet at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Sure." Why oh why did he just agree to this?

"Excellent." She beams. _That's_ why, a little voice in his head says. "I'll see you then."

"See you."

A few hours later finds him seated at the bar in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Sorry I'm late," Daphne rushes up to him. "I needed to shelve a few books someone forgot to put away before I left."

"You're only about five minutes late," he shrugs as she sits.

"How's your day been?" she asks.

"Fine."

The bartender turns around and asks for their orders.

"Two firewhiskies." Blaise orders.

"You didn't even give me a chance to order," Daphne says half-jokingly.

"Did I need to?"

"So, what part of Italy were you staying in?" Daphne switches topics.

"Florence, where my mother's from."

"How is she?"

"She's got a new husband."

"Ah, so this is her ninth one now?"

"Only her eighth, actually."

The bartender serves them their drinks.

"So what were you doing in Italy?" Daphne queries.

"I just wanted to get away from it all," he takes a sip.

"I think we all do-did, to some extent," Daphne says softly. She too takes a sip of her drink.

"Why did you decide to become a shop girl?" He asks the question he's been burning to ask after he takes a gulp of the (almost) equally hot beverage in front of him.

"I understand why you'd ask that," she says after she finishes her drink. "Although my family's not extremely wealthy, we are by no means impoverished, and a shop-girl doesn't seem like the type of career someone from by background would pursue.

Well… the truth is, I don't really know what I want out of life anymore, if I ever did to begin with. My final year of school was…tense, to say the least. I don't need to tell you that; you were there. I nearly Crucioed someone once. They used to make us do that on people who got detention, remember? I couldn't do it. I physically could not will myself to cast the curse _and_ mean it. I didn't get punished, but I think that's when I really realized what kind of world we were living in. I knew of the war and what was happening obviously, but that was the moment when it all became real, and not just some horrible nightmare that I would wake up from at any moment. I never really actively participated in any of it, but I didn't do anything to stop it. I was just a bystander. I couldn't live like that anymore, and staying in England reminded me too much of whom I was. Well, it turns out Pansy felt similarly."

"Pansy Parkinson?" He scoffs. Daphne orders another drink before she continues.

"Yes, Pansy. She never showed it in public, but she didn't like what Hogwarts had become any more than I had. She was able to cast the Cruciatus Curse on other students when she was forced to—and I say forced because the only reason she did it was

because she knew she would be tortured if she refused—but she broke down crying in my arms afterwards every time. Malfoy told her he didn't want anything to do with her after the war, and that just broke her. "

Her drink arrives, and she takes a sip. " We were both broken, but I thought we could be fixed if we just got away from here. Pansy agreed."

"That's all well and good," Blaise says after downing his drink. "But that doesn't answer my original question."

"I'm getting there. We traveled all over the continent. We…had all kinds of fun. We gatecrashed party after party; we flocked to tourist attractions time and time again, we never stayed in the same hotel for more than a few nights at a time. We would drink and dance together like we were in some sort of dream we'd never wake up from. But we weren't. Pansy got drunk most nights initially. I did too, initially, before I realized Pansy needed me even more than I need her." She takes another sip, not noticing the tense change she just used. " So I always tried to be sober, and tried to prevent her from getting drunk most nights. I still drink most nights, but never enough to get _completely_ hammered like she does-was. After about a year abroad, we were at this fiesta one night, and I just had this sudden realization that Pansy and I hadn't really grown up. I'm still not entirely sure what triggered that moment. Maybe it was the sight of people getting drunk underneath the fireworks, something about the music, seeing Pansy snogging a man she didn't even speak the same language as, or the letter I got from my family a few hours earlier, but I just decided enough was enough. I pleaded with Pansy to see things my way, and we went home."

"Are you finally going to answer my original question?" He says, finishing his second drink.

"We went home. The fiesta was over. We'd had fun that year, lots of it, but we didn't have real happiness. I want-wanted- to be happy again. Pansy did too. I knew that if I wanted to change, I needed to change my behavior. So I got a job, even though I still live at home. I only got four N.E.W.T.s: Charms, Potions , Herbology, and History of Magic. I wasn't sure I was ready for a "real" career yet. I knew I could get a better-paying job than Flourish and Blotts, but since money wasn't an issue and they were hiring, I took it. I'm glad I did. It allows me to interact with and to some extent even help people, it's something I'm good at and gives me something to do with my time, and I'm surrounded by books. It's only a temporary thing, but it's good for me. Plus, as an employee, I get a discount."

"What was in the letter you got?"

Daphne stirs her drink. "It was…news."

"About?" He prompts.

"Astoria." She takes another sip.

"I heard about her and Malfoy last winter," he says. "I'd say congratulations, but-"

"Don't," Daphne demands. "It's my fault, if I hadn't gone on that blasted trip with Pansy-"

"Your sister would not be marrying a former Death Eater," he finishes for her.

"They're getting married this summer," Daphne murmurs. "After Astoria finishes her N.E.W.T.s. It's her final year at Hogwarts, you know. Even though they no longer are in school together, he always meets up with her in Hogsmeade on weekends. The letter I got was from my mother saying she caught them sneaking off together at some party my family was attending, but I had no idea she was so serious about him she'd agree to marry him!"

Daphne takes a swig, and when she opens her mouth her speech is slightly slurred. "Oh Blaise, if only she was in love with _you_ instead! You were such a gentleman that time we went to the Yule Ballall together, if you were her boyfriend and behaved like that towards her I wouldn't object to her marrying you. I always liked you. You're cynical and condescending, but you're funny, intelligent, and always interesting to talk to. _You_ were never a Death Eater! We have no trouble talking with each other. If my sister has to marry someone who is not half as kind as her, you would be so much better to have as a brother-in law!"

"Why the Hell would you say that?!" He jerks away from her in his seat.

"What? Oh Blaise, I'm so sorry, you told me you always preferred blunt honesty, I'm tipsy and I just assumed-"

"You're gay, aren't you." He says suddenly.

"Sorry?" She blinks.

"You're gay," he repeats. "That night at the Yule Ball, when we slow-danced together and I pressed you against me but it had no effect on you, because you were too busy watching Pansy and Malfoy dance from over my shoulder. "

"Blaise, lower you voice," she implores.

"You and Pansy," he continues. "You were attached at the hip. No matter what she said or did to anyone else, you never left her side, and she was always kind to _you_. You two were friendly enough the first two years, but from third year onwards you were practically inseparable. You hung onto her every word. That's right around the time when most kids start to fancy people, isn't it? If she complimented you on how you dressed or fixed your hair one day, you would do it that way from then on out. "

"Lower your voice, _please_!"

" Once she started going out with Malfoy, you went from being politely friendly with him to flat out indifference, to the dislike of him you have now. Yet you never once openly criticized your best friend's choice in her boyfriend, despite how you felt, and I bet you only _really_ began to dislike him after he broke her heart."

"Rubbish!" Her gaze does not meet his.

"That's why you won't have anything to do with me. No matter how much of a gentleman I was to you that night, no matter how well we got along at school. There was never anything wrong with me, you were the problem all along!"

" _Will you stop shouting_?"

He opens his mouth to let her know he is not yelling and he has no idea what she is talking about, but stops when he sees her eyes.

"Get us two more drinks." He orders the bartender. Daphne dabs at her eyes with a handkerchief when she thinks no one is looking.

"You used to make me feel special," She says softly. "When everyone else compared me to my perfect sister, you just accepted me as I am. The only other person who's ever done that is Pansy."

"It can be that way all over again." The drinks arrive and he takes a swig.

"No it can't," her drink remains untouched. "If you ever gave me a chance to finish, you'd hear me say that now you made me feel like I did-and to some extent still do- when people compare me to Astoria. I look nothing like her you know; do you really believe we're sisters? I don't think anyone does."

"Damn," he sighs. "We could have had such a good time together if things were different."

"Isn't it nice to think so?" She takes a sip.

"You have no idea," Obsidian orbs meet emerald eyes. "You don't know a thing, do you?"

"Blaise-"

"Do you want to know what I was really doing in Italy?" He will never forget _that_ moment. _That_ moment that has haunted him since he first learned the terrible truth. "You and I share something that your sister and I do not." He slaps a few Galleons onto the table, and leaves.

He does not check to see if she calls or chases after him. Truthfully, it does not matter. Not anymore. He feels a drop of precipitation fall on his head, but that doesn't deter him. He's too arrogant to dwell on not being able to Apparate. He's too arrogant to ever fully admit that he is in love with his own half-sister.

 **A/N: So the moment Blaise is remembering is the moment when he realized he and Daphne are related. How exactly that moment came about I decided to leave to the reader's imagination. He realized it when he was visiting Italy-where his mother's family is from-, so you may draw your own conclusions based off of that.**

 **There is only one sin to go now! Next Time: Wrath, starring Pansy.**

 **Please review!**


	7. Wrath

**A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed, added to favorites, story alerts, or even just read this far! *Hands out cyber mixed tapes of your choice*. And now, I present to you, the final sin!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** **Harry Potter.**

Wrath

 _Why am I doing this? Why in the name of Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven am I doing this?_ Pansy takes a breath as she notices the sun gleaming down off of the stained glass windows.

"Pansy!" Daphne Greengrass rushes towards her, looking radiant in a strapless set of emerald dress robes.

 _Oh wait, that's why._ "Shouldn't you be with your sister, Daphne?"

"Astoria's all ready, she's just reading a book of poems she got as a present while she waits for everyone else. She said I could do whatever I like, so I decided to take a walk. I was just about to head back in. We should be starting in ten minutes. "

"Did _he_ get her the book of poems?"

"Of course he did Pansy. "Daphne says softly. "He is her fiance, after all."

"You don't have to remind _me_." She sniffs. Then: "I suppose they were all ones which reminded him of her, were they?"

"That's what he says." Daphne gives her a hug. "You're being very brave Pansy. If I didn't know better, I would have thought you were a Gryffindor."

"Har har,"Pansy laughs flatly, yet can't help but feel her lips twitch a little. "You should probably go in soon."

"See you later." Daphne detaches herself from the hug and leaves.

Taking a breath once more, Pansy pushes the door open and steps inside the church.

It is practically deserted. She walks past rows and rows of empty pews until she finally sees the backs of two platinum blond heads seated to her right and two golden-haired heads to her left.

 _Wow, there are literally no other guests besides me and their parents._ She hastily retreats back several rows. _I wonder if anyone else will show up._ She slinks into one of the pews. 

Narcissa Malfoy appears to have heard her entrance though, and cranes her neck around to identify the new attendant of this minute ceremony. Silver meets coal as the two lock eyes with one another, before breaking away seconds later. Narcissa turns back in her seat to face the front. _She never did like me. I wonder if she's happy that her son's marrying_ her. _At least she doesn't have to worry about having me for a daughter in-law._

Her eyes follow the back of the other platinum head several rows before her. _He always seemed fond of me though. Perhaps he wishes I was the bride instead._

It's at that moment that Lucius Malfoy turns around in his seat, and the instant his gaze meets hers Pansy's hopes are dashed. He does not smile, nor make any sign of greetings besides a curt nod and a steely glare before turning back around in his seat like his wife.

 _Of course he doesn't like me anymore. I'm just the girl suggested we hand over Potter to the Dark Lord and got my whole house punished for it, not to mention the girl his son dumped. He probably blames me for this wedding._

It seems that no one will ever let Pansy forget that one mistake she made in her life. Yes, she had advocated that they surrender Harry Potter to the most malevolent wizard of their time, and they could call her a traitor because it is true, she is one, but do they have to be so pretentious and pretend that they would not have done the same if she hadn't intervened? Yes she supported You-Know-Who's cause, but she never actually took the mark, and what would have happened if she opposed him? Her family and her would be slaughtered, that's what. Her father had been a Death Eater, it was in her and her family's best interests for her to proclaim that Potter should have been handed over to the Dark Lord. It was pure self-preservation, what's wrong with that? What happened? No one listened to her, and her father is currently sitting in Azkaban in consequence.

Pansy grips the tip of the pew in front of her, and her hands turn white as the organ begins to play. From a side door to the left, enters Draco. Never has he looked so handsome as he does in this moment. Perhaps it is because she knows she cannot have him; he is as tantalizing as the sight of a fountain of water on a hot day, only to find that the last drops are being absorbed by someone else.

She realizes he sees her and time seems to stand still. _Take me, fulfill me, consume me until I can't even remember my name. Watch me burn if you like, just don't ignore me._

He ignores her and just walks away. Away to meet his destiny.

 _I bet you wouldn't acknowledge me if I turned to ash before your eyes, you prick._

She watches as he reaches the front of the altar. _I can't believe I still love the way you hurt me, even after all these years._

A memory flickers through her mind, as vividly as the flash on a camera.

 _She is sixteen years old and her heart is on fire . His kiss is , she concludes as she presses her lips to his, the most addictive drug that has ever existed. Suddenly ,he pulls away._

" _Where are you going?"_

" _I can't do this Pansy, I need to focus on the task He's assigned me."_

" _Oh...well, we can always pick up later."_

" _No, Pansy, I mean I can't do this. Period. I need to concentrate on my mission."_

" _Mission?" She scoffs. "That never stopped you before now. Tell me the real reason. Is it Astoria Greengrass?"_

" _What?" He laughs, but his voice is hollow. " Don't be ridiculous."_

" _I've seen the way you look at her! I'm always the one who initiates our kisses ; I bet you were imagining snogging her just now instead of me!"_

" _And what if I was?"_

" _Don't even say that. Don't you fucking dare say that."_

" _Fine." He sighs. " I feel nothing towards Astoria Greengrass. She's just the younger sister of your best friend to me. That's the truth Pansy."_

 _She (almost) believed him._

She awakens from her flashback to notice the bridesmaids and groomsmen down in front. Daphne is Maiden of Honor, naturally, and a friend of Astoria's stands next to her, fidgeting with her gown. Goyle is Best Man- _why?_ \- and Blaise Zabini is the sole groomsman. Daphne and Zabini refuse to look at each other. _She never did tell me why she dislikes him so much now._

Daphne's always been a good friend, and sometimes something more.

 _Pansy is in a hotel room in Vienna, and opens her eyes to bright sunlight and a throbbing headache._

" _Drink this," a barely-clothed Daphne whispers as she passes her a vial. She opens Pansy's mouth for her, and pours the cold liquid down her throat. "Better?"_

" _Much," the potion's effects are instantaneous, and she sits up to admire her -friend, lover, who the hell even cares anymore 's- state of undress. "I trust we had a fun night?"_

" _From what little I remember of it, I think so," Smiles Daphne._

" _God you're beautiful Daph. "_

" _You sure you're not just saying that because I cured your hangover?" Daphne quips._

" _I'm serious, don't cover yourself like that! Honestly, you're just as pretty as your sister. "_

" _Thank you."_

" _Draco never called me beautiful. He never commented on my appearance at all, actually."_

" _His loss Gorgeous." Daphne winks._

" _That might have just been his way of showing he valued me as a person, and wasn't dating me for my looks."_

" _Are you still making excuses for him?"_

" _Maybe."_

In the present, the back door opens and in walks Astoria. It's funny how Astoria's clad in ivory but the only thing Pansy can see is red. _The worst part is I can't even hate her; she's too damned sweet to hate. Envy, yes. I'd rather set myself on fire than endure this. Yet I can't properly hate her._

As soon as Draco sees Astoria, his neutral expression turns into the brightest smile she has ever seen from him. It's as bright as a thousand stars all shining simultaneously. Astoria rushes down the aisle towards him.

 _Set me aflame. I can't hate anyone who makes him smile like that._

And so the ceremony begins.

 _Why do I love him again? Why is the pain he causes me so irresistible? Why did I first fall for him? Was it his smirk, that arrogance I so foolishly admired and aspired to? Probably._

Yet that former swagger is gone. The man who gazes adoringly at his bride-to-be is not Draco Malfoy. _Draco never looked at me like that. He never will._ She clenches her fists, and her nails press against them so hard she draws blood.

"...so long as you both shall live?"

Instead of saying "I Do", Draco raises his fingers and makes a gesture with his fingers that Pansy does not recognize. So does Astoria.

"You may now kiss the bride."

It is at that moment that Pansy stands up and runs out the church door. She doesn't look back and she doesn't stop running until she Apparates away. She Apparates into her bedroom and cries. No one else is in the house asides for a few house elves, which grants her complete privacy. Complete isolation.

An hour later, she hears a soft _crack_ behind her. She doesn't need to look up to know who it is; there's only one person in the world who is not barred by an enchantment from Apparating into her room.

"I'm sorry," Says Daphne.

"What for?" Eyes like wet coals meet dry emeralds. " For your sister marrying my ex-boyfriend? Because no offense, but I'm pretty upset about that too Daph."

"For not being here sooner," Daphne answers. "I gave my speech about Astoria at the reception, sat with my parents in awkward silence, and then left. I couldn't stand it. "

"You left the reception early?" She blinks. "For me? But Daph it's your sister-"

"Astoria can wait,"Daphne interjects . " I did everything she needed me to do. I've wasted enough time preparing to be happy about this absurd marriage, and you're in agony right now. I'm sure she understands. This is what she wants, I'm sure; she saw you at the wedding. "

"But I know how much she means to you-"

"So do you," Daphne asserts. "Right now your pain is more important than her happiness. I wish my sister joy today and everyday of her life, and I know as much I despise him for the pain he's caused you, she'll be happy as his bride. You should have seen them at the reception; they were sickly delightful together. But you are hurting, and that is not something I can allow. I love you Pansy even if you don't love me. I can't bear to see you like this. "

"What do you mean I don't love you?" Demands Pansy.

" You know what I mean. I mean that you'll never love me as anything _other_ than a friend-with-benefits. " Daphne elucidates placidly. "And that's ok. No, I'm being serious here, it really is. I love you Pansy. I love you broken, I love you complete. I love you at your worst and your best and have stood by your side all the while. I have for years, and I probably always will. I've accepted that whether or not you feel the same about me is beyond my control. I just want to be with you. Friend, friend-with-benefits, or otherwise."

"If it helps,"Pansy croaks. "You're the best I've ever had."

"Best what?"

"Anything. "

"What's holding you back?" Daphne solicits. " Not just now, but all these years."

"I'm not good enough," Pansy protests. "Not for you, not for Draco, not for anyone. I've tortured people Daphne; I might have just been doing it to save my own skin, but all that proves is how many horrible things I'm capable of. I'm a traitor, I'm vengeful, spiteful, _cruel_. "

"What did I just say?"Daphne sighs. "I love you, flaws and all. I'm not crazy about that temper of yours, but I'm crazy about you anways. Besides, it's not like I'm perfect either, or that I don't have my own issues to sort out. I still compare myself to Astoria, but I'm trying not to and I'm getting better. I'm used to the looks I get when I'm with my mother and they don't bother me anymore. I know I have value, I just need to dig a little deeper to find all of it. I think you're the same way. I see galaxies of potential bursting inside of you, and I wish I could give you my eyes so you could see what I see."

" I'm damned though," whispers Pansy . " Even if I do change, there's no way I won't burn in Hell for everything."

"Rubbish," dismisses Daphne. " Do you really think sinners don't sometimes merit forgiveness too? Do you really think you aren't worthy of forgiveness after you've acknowledged your wrongdoings and ideally will change for the better? You're already growing Pansy. It's just going to take time. Besides, I don't actually believe there is a pit full of fire where some people go when they die. Real Hell is fruitless suffering, and I won't let you stay in there any longer." She kisses her.

When the kiss ends, Pansy sees Daphne's eyes are as wet as her face.

"It's like we're crying," Pansy remarks. "In our own private little corner of the world."

"Well I can guarantee you," Daphne smiles. "There's nothing sinful about love."

 **A/N: I may write a one-shot sequel to this detailing Draco and Astoria's relationship, so if any of you may be interested in that, I reccomend adding me to author alerts. ;D Once again, thank you for all of your support, and for the final time, please review!**


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